The 'Careful Whispers' series: No 1 - Penhaligon's Iris Prima review

Source: Wikimedia Commons ~ Noboyuki Kayahara

Undina of Undina's Looking Glass recently reported on the upcoming release of a new Puredistance scent, Black, which the company describes as a 'mysteriously charming perfume that is close to the wearer and releases sensual and elegant layers in a whispering way'. Well, as regular readers of Bonkers know, I love perfumes that are subtle, nuanced and quiet. Accordingly I left a comment after Undina's post, exclaiming: 'I clocked the elegant, mysterious and whispering (yay!)', triggering in turn this joky riposte from Undina:

'You and your “whispering” hang-up!  Are you sure you even need a perfume? No perfume would stay really close to skin, you know. '

This banter with Undina about my predilection for scents that are well-crafted but muted - aka 'careful whispers' (with apologies to George Michael) - has only gone and prompted me to start a mini-series on this fragrance style. ;-) I thought I'd kick off with the newest addition to the Penhaligon's range, Iris Prima, which is due to be released on September 9th.  In collaboration with leading members of the English National Ballet, perfumer Alberto Morillas set out to capture the spirit and grace of the dance in a perfume.

Notes: bergamot, pink pepper, iris, jasmine (hedione), leather, sandalwood, vetiver, amber, vanilla and benzoin

I hadn't actually clocked Iris Prima was by Morillas until I sat down to write this review.  In a past post on Estee Lauder Intuition I dubbed him the master of the 'fuzzy' scent, as in 'blurry and indistinc' (think Armani She White, Armani Sensi, Kenzo Flower Oriental and Bvlgari Omnia Crystalline), and Iris Prima is no exception. Occasionally, as with Intuition, Morillas's creations can be downright fuzzy in a textural way, and the leather note in Iris Prima gives it a bit of that suede undercurrent that characterises Bottega Veneta, for example (though Iris Prima is less sweet and not at all fruity like BV).

Source: Facebook

I get a hint of iris from the outset - and a hint is really quite enough for me - less than in Chanel La Pausa, say, with which it very much shares its indistinct DNA.  And much less so than in the more powdery and spiky iris of Bas de Soie, which in fairness is blended with some prickly hyacinth.

Of the three, Iris Prima is my clear favourite, though La Pausa smells fractionally more niche, possibly because the iris is more prominent, in an old school, melancholic Apres L'Ondee kind of a way.  In my book iris does equate with class to a degree (with a few notable exceptions such as Chanel Chance!), so the more muted the note the more a scent edges towards mainstream territory.  But then I like many high end designer scents and don't get on with a ton of niche stuff, so that in itself is not a black mark in my book.  

And Iris Prima does smell niche - this despite the stated inclusion of hedione, which might have put me off if I had known that nugget on first testing it - for I didn't get on with that particular aromachemical in Marc Jacobs Blush, where it is present in spades. Together with vetiver and amber, the hedione helps to give Iris Prima a warm, luminous, translucent quality.  This is overlaid by just a light dusting of powdery iris, conferring a tender, wistful facet that also keeps Iris Prima from feeling too modern.

Source: buro247.ru

My only quibble with Iris Prima, which perfectly lives up to the exquisite balletic imagery which has characterised the launch campaign, is that it doesn't last very long - and coming from me that is saying something!  After two hours it has started to fade, and after four I am struggling to detect it on my skin.  But if you don't mind regularly refreshing it, in terms of how Iris Prima smells I am a big fan.  This is dainty and easy to wear, an elfin slip of a scent.  A whisper that is just a tad too quiet indeed, which brings me to my audibility scale...  

Audibility rating (on a scale of 1-10, where 1 is hard to spot and 10 is foghorn loud): 3.5 

Well, Iris Prima starts out at 3.5, falling to a 1 within a relatively short space of time. And La Pausa is guilty of something similar, while Bas de Soie has more tenacity - those thorny hyacinth molecules don't give up without a fight.

Source: weheartit.com

For another - more detailed and beautifully nuanced - review, check out the Candy Perfume Boy's take on Iris Prima.  Whilst he concedes that this scent might be too understated for his tastes, I am surprised that a renowned Angel fan like Thomas does not also report issues with the scent's longevity / audibility rating! ;-) ;-)

PS If the spinning ballerina is inhibiting your ability to read this post, give me a shout and I will relocate her to the end, or - in extremis - despatch her to the wings!


Disclosure: a sample of Iris Prima was provided by Penhaligon's at my request.

Pump Down The Volume: Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561 Fiore Di Riso - A Careful Whisper Of A Scent

Over on Boisdejasmin the other day, Victoria had written a review of Christian Dior New Look 1947, which - relative to her expectations for this scent - she found disappointing and lacking in chutzpah: "Such a beautiful idea certainly deserves to make a grander statement." Along with several other commenters, I weighed in with my own liking for this scent, however flawed the olfactory interpretation of a "red lipstick glamour look". Sweet cold cream and talc accord, bring it on, I say! I don't mind if it is a silk slip scent and not a wasp waisted pencil skirt teamed with a fur bolero.

Yes, as anyone who knows me will tell you, as long as my nose can physically register a fragrance, it can't be too wispy and nuanced for me. I have already waxed wimpy on this very topic in my review of Calvin Klein's recent feminine release, Beauty, arguing my point that "blandness is in the eye of the beholder".

Which brings me next to an article in our local paper last week, defending my adopted home town of Stafford from a charge levelled at it in the latest edition of The Lonely Planet travel guide that it is "a quiet little place, overshadowed by other towns in the county". The indignant journalist entitled her rebuttal: "Why our town is far from quiet..." and went on to list a whole clatter of events in support of her argument, ranging from the annual open air Shakespeare production, to a half marathon, town centre cycle race, plus a music and arts festival. So far, so sporadic...of which more anon. But the bit she wrote that absolutely tickled me - for its sheer grandiose irrelevance - is this: "the award-winning Victoria Park, (and) our river Sow that runs through the centre of the town".

Since when did a park or a river constitute cultural hustle and bustle, never mind the beating heart of the town's night - or even daytime - life? It is a park, for goodness' sake. Flowers grow and die back. Old men sit on benches. One or two may attempt to lie on them, till a special constable politely moves them on. Oh, and the river running through? Well, in case anyone is wondering, Stafford is not a famous centre for white water rafting...the river Sow drifts along quietly, suffering occasional bouts of indigestion from clumps of weed and the odd supermarket trolley.

I said above: "So far, so sporadic", for when the only events you can wheel out as evidence of a jumping community are annual - or static/stagnant civic amenities such as parks and waterways - you know you are protesting too much. Take it from me, Stafford is an uneventful place. From Monday to Thursday the wind whistles eerily through the deserted town centre, while on a Friday and Saturday night there are plenty of people about, some baring unseasonal expanses of flesh, staggering, throwing up and/or looking for a fight.

Yes, Stafford is quiet, and that is fine by me. And quiet scents are also fine, like my latest discovery, Fiore di Riso, the new release from the snappily named Italian house, Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561. Thanks to lovethescents for the sample of this one - the very name filled me with eager expectation: "rice flower" sounds so delicate and ethereal. That's never going to reek of camphor, or turps, or knock-your-block-off tuberose, or a badger's bottom - no, not with an apologetic name like "rice flower", surely. It sounds meek and demure and unassuming, and - unlike New Look for Victoria - the scent turns out to be wholly consistent with its name.

Luckyscent lists the notes as follows:

White flowers, ginger, vanilla, sandalwood, oakmoss

Then I found a completely different note pyramid on the website of an Italian online boutique:

Mandarin, bergamot, rose, jasmine, vanilla, tonka bean, benzoin

Which in turn prompted me to turn to the website of Farmacia SS Annunziata dal 1561 itself, where I found some very elegant shots of their premises, but next to nothing on the fragrances themselves.

So instead, here is an extract from the Luckyscent website:

"Fiore di Riso is a soft, sophisticated skin fragrance with dreamy vanillic facets. The lightness of the white flowers gives way to a comforting, sweet, sandalwood undertone.... Not overly sweet, not very floral, Fiore di Riso is creamy and warm..."

I would agree with this summary of Fiore di Riso, and to be honest, the uncertainty about the note listing almost doesn't matter, as I can't detect much in the way of specifics anyway! On me it starts out quite sweet - vanilla-y and noticeably woody, with a very muted hint of florals that keep the scent from veering into overt gourmand territory, not that I would have minded that. It is more restrained than Love's True Bluish Light, shall we say.

It is in fact a foody vanilla scent given the Illuminum White Gardenia Petals or the New Look 1947 treatment - ie majorly reined in (nearly wrote "reigned in" - must be the Kate Middleton connection!), before ending up as the merest wisp of a vanillic floral. The wood is very smooth and I don't get any ginger at all, though maybe it is working behind the scenes to nip any gourmand tendencies in the bud. Nor do I have the faintest clue what white flowers might be involved here, despite the mention of jasmine and rose in the second note listing. Fiore de Riso is less powdery than White Gardenia Petals, but belongs to the same olfactory demographic - a polite, dainty, barely there white floral.

As you can imagine, I thought Fiore di Riso would be an ideal contender to present to Mr Bonkers for his critique. I have been on a bit of a roll, frankly, since the surprise hit of Le Labo Labdanum 18, and was quietly hopeful that he couldn't object to this one.

"Is it soap? It's not bad. It's inoffensive."

Pause.

"Yup, I guess in your terms an 'inoffensive' from me counts as a raging endorsement."

(He means compared with "fly spray", "craft shop", "eugh, take it away!" and "GET OUT OF THE ROOM NOW!")

Yes, and "inoffensive" is a raging endorsement from me too. Let's make some noise for quiet scents!


Photo of Fiore di Riso from fragrantica.com, photo of Stafford town centre from yourlocalweb.co.uk, photo of Victoria Park from flickr, photo of rice flower from flash-screen.com, photo of Farmacia SS Annunziata dal 1561 shop from alessionesi.it